A Halloween Date Night
by Aftenstjerne83
Summary: Follow Morticia and Gomez on a romantic Halloween date. They discover a strange and ghoulish night club during their moonlight walk. Sweet, romantic little story and of course things get a bit...heated. It's them you know ;) Enjoy! Comments make me insanely happy. To be continued...
1. Chapter 1 A strange club

**A Halloween date night**

The nightclub was hazy with smoke. Grinning jack o lanterns shone through the smokey darkness illuminating the dancing crowd. You couldn´t tell because of the season, but every night was Halloween down at this club. Morticia and Gomez had been on a moonlight walk together through the outskirts of the city. Junkyards, graveyards and mental hospitals along the way, all so quiet and romantic. He held her glove less cold, little hand in his, stopping every now and then to admire an idyllic scene like a car being crammed together in a wrecking yard or a snake hurrying across the cold mud covering the road. It felt wonderful to be just the two of them going wherever the night wanted them to go. Dementia was a marvelous babysitter indeed, always preventing Wednesday from killing her younger brothers, Pugsley from being caught by the police while steeling another warning sign, and Pubert from setting the house on fire. What more could you ask for? Beside she had saved their dear Uncle Fester from his lonely bachelor life. Morticia slid her arm around her husbands waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. She breathed in the exciting mixed smell of his cologne and the October night air: burned rubber, cold mud and rotten leaves. What a wonderful night to be alive! She sighed happily as Gomez bent down to kiss her.

-Look! She pointed a sharp, red nail against a flashy vintage neon sign showing the blinking image of two dancing skeletons. His lips brushed against her cool, dark hair.

\- I didn't know it was a night club, out here, did you?

\- Oh Gomez, I want to dance with you.

He smiled at the almost childlike enthusiasm in her voice.

\- Don´t get disappointed cara, it might have gone out of business years ago.

\- Let's have a look!

She pulled at his hand dragging him towards the sign which pointed to a steep stair seemingly winding down into night itself.

\- Kiss me first.

She turned and faced him swift as a shadow.

\- Bien sûr, mon cher.

\- Oh Tish, he groaned, dragging her close and claiming her mouth.

\- Sure you want to be with other people? He murmured against her lips letting his hands slide lover down from her slim waist, squeezing suggestively.

\- You can´t just take me here on the muddy ground anyway, she whispered back to him.

He pulled her closer and she could literally hear his Castillian blood starting to course through his veins. _It takes so little to turn you on my dear_ , she thought to herself and smiled her complacent half smile.

\- Can't I?

His eyes got that old, familiar glow and the heat from his body made her will weaken.

\- No, you can't my little pumpkin, she said, referring to the way his eyes were glowing in the dark. She tried to sound unaffected but she wasn't. If he really wanted her right there, right then she wouldn't be able to resist.

\- Ok, let's go then. He offered her his arm and walked her towards the dark stairs. As they moved closer they could see a small torch greeting them as a friendly evil eye in the night. He supported her down the slippery stairs. As they reached the bottom a door opened by itself. Heat, music, laughter and the party smell mix of cigar smoke and perfume rushed against the couple. A stylish broad shouldered werewolf sneered at them and gestured against the wardrobe. Morticia handed over her cape to an almost transparent looking young girl.

\- God evening, Madame.

The girl smiled with pale lips and Morticia noticed that she clearly could see the dark fabric of her cape through the girls hands. Her heart skipped a beat.

\- Gomez, did you see that girl?

\- What girl?

Gomez was busy searching his pockets for a lighter. Morticia reached out one elegant finger and touched the cigar with the tip of her dark red stiletto nail. The cigarette lit with a blue flame and Gomez smiled with delight.

\- Thank you, Tish. I think I have lost my lighter again. Such a pity, it was a collectors item, antique, expensive and with a pretty nice, little curse tied to it. Bless you, my magic wife. He took her hand in his and kissed it.

\- And to answer your question. Querida! I never look at other women. You know that.

\- She's right behind you, darling.

Morticia nodded and looked at the girl on the other side of the counter, her transparent hands busy with handling coats and furs, floating between the wardrobe rows in her old fashioned dress.

Gomez turned and raised his eyebrows.

\- I see no girl.

He narrowed his eyes and blew cigar smoke in direction of the weird little worker. The smoke made her appear even more etheric to Morticias eyes.

\- Nope.

Gomez shook his head.

\- You are seeing ghosts, cara mia.

\- Yes, she smiled at him- I think I do, indeed.

\- And all I can see is you.

He spoke with his face close to hers, allowing her to smell the cigar on his breath and see the twinkle in his dark eyes.

\- More pale and beautiful than any ghost, any corpse anywhere.

The way he looked at her made her shiver inside, feeling liquid heat seeping through her veins making her light headed and tipsy, as if she already was halfway down a bottle of the finest wine which he used to buy for her on evenings like this. She blinked quickly and looked down, her lashes dark and fine like spider legs making soft shadows underneath her eyes.

\- Darling…you always know how to flatter a woman.

She had to look down for a while to regain control over her self. After all this years, he still possessed such power over her it sometimes scared her. Nothing else did or could, not a human being nor and angel from Heaven or a demon from Hell. Morticia was able to look all creatures in the eye, fearing no one, ashamed of nothing. Still she found herself needing to look away from her own husbands loving eyes.

 _I think I love you just a little too much._


	2. Chapter 2 Blood talk

Morticia studied the peculiar container filled with red liquid.

\- Want to taste something new, cara mia?

Gomez followed her eyes and smiled. This place was really something else. Morticia turned and smiled back at him.

\- Well darling, I feel thirsty. But not for blood. I was thinking about the hospital. You know how much I want do become a blood donor?

\- Yes, my love. Gomez collected her hair in his hand and nuzzled her neck gently. His sweet wife, always such a philanthropist

\- And the doctors never let you, do they?

\- No, they don't believe I'm healthy enough.

\- What a strange thing to say! You are a very healthy woman. In every way I can possibly think of. He winked at her.

\- Yes darling, I know. But they worry about me...my weight and my pale complexion...

\- Your hollow cheeks and your slow beating heart...

\- Oh, I believe they are good people and clever doctors, but to claim I need the small amount of blood my body contains myself? When all I want is to share...

\- Just think of all the car crashes, child births gone wrong and fatal operations-they need every drop they can get!

\- Not to mention all the attempts on ax murder.

\- Tish, your altruism sets my very own Castillian blood on fire!

He said it just load enough to make a couple suspicious looking pale women turn their dark heads towards him licking their red lips. Morticia noticed both their sickly looking lustful eyes and the glint of predator teeth behind luscious lips. She turned her head to meet their eyes, slowly and controlled. Her icy death glare made them busy with their phones. Nobody should dare to lust after her husband...or his blood for that sake, as long as she was around him.


	3. Chapter 3 Lust on the dancefloor

Down on the smokey dance floor Gomez and Morticia were dancing bachata. All kinds of scary ghouls and creepy lost souls were flailing around them but at the moment they only had eyes for each other. She lifted a bent leg and hooked it around his hip. Usually she wore tight, long dresses concealing her legs, but tonight she wore one with a bald split revealing inches of tantalizing marble skin in a way she usually only did during their private time together. The sight of her naked skin turned him on. He held her eyes while he caressed the sensitive skin at the back of her thigh with a strong, warm hand. Her eyes narrowed in a feline and ultimate sexy way as she leaned closer to him. Morticia loved to dance like this: Soft, slow and sensual and oh -so- very intimate. It was almost like they were already making love, but on a mental level. She felt so close to him in moments like this, no words needed, just the music, the eye contact and the energy moving between their bodies and souls.

To touch her, to be with her, to dance with her- he had done so for years and still it would never become just another pleasant habit. There was this strange thrill of newness to every sensation. How the silkiness of her thigh against his palm made him curious about the rest of her body-like if he hadn't had her more than a thousand times already. Like if he were to conquer her for the very first time tonight. And her eyes, the way she played with them, dragging him into her world. The eyes of his cara mia, filled with tease and love and exquisite darkness…and something more- something he had no name for. She had been in his arms so many glorious times, she had birthed his children, lived under his roof for more than a decade- and yet she remained a mystery to him. She cast a spell on him the first time he laid eyes on her and he never wanted to be freed from it.

His eyes followed the sway of her hips. Like a snake, he thought, like a lovely, black and venomous snake. Silent and terrible and cool in the night while he grew hotter and hotter. A sudden urge to bend her down on the dance floor, give into his most primal instinct and take her hard and fast in front of every paranormal freak in the club, rushed through him. _Control yourself, old man, he murmured to himself._

\- Did you say something, darling?

Morticia spoke with her mouth against his ear. He could feel the puff of warm air from her breath, the sweet smell of her hair, her breasts touching his chest through layers of luxurious clothing and it made him dizzy. He was surrounded by her intoxicating presence.

\- You drive me insane, mi diosa.

\- Je le sais, mon cher.

\- Tish!

Morticia couldn't help but laugh at the tortured way her name escaped his lips.

\- Self control, she whispered, and raked the tips of her nails over his cheek.

He grabbed her hand and squished her wrist so hard it made her moan in delightful pain.

\- Later, mon sauvage…right now I need a drink.

Gomez restrained himself and let go of her wrist kissing the bruise starting to form on the delicate skin.

-Of course cara mia, whatever you want.

\- I just need a glass of water, my love. With lots of ice in it.

\- As milady wishes! Gomez took her arm and hurried against the bar, eager to fulfill her humble wish.

They walked around looking for a free table in the crowded club. Vampires, werewolves, zombies and other creatures occupied every chair in sight. Gomez scanned the room impatient,he knew his darling really needed to sit down for a while. She didn't have his stamina when it came to physical activities like long walks and dancing. Finally he glimpsed an empty chair by a small table in a dank corner. He moved towards it and as he reached the table he noticed a couple sitting on a nearby table with an empty chair next to them. They seemed to be locked in a loving embrace leaning over the table. The lady wore a distinguished looking light blue ball gown, her yellow hair loose and covering her face and shoulders. The gentleman wore an outfit that made Gomez think of the glorious heydays of the guillotine. His impressive white wig were tangled in his lovers golden locks.

Gomez made a polite cough.

-Excuse me…I don't mean to interrupt your lovely evening, I was just wondering about the free chair? Do you mind if we take it?

No response. The couple kept their heads together in silent conspiracy. Morticia lifted a suspicious brow. She glided around the table to look at their faces. She gasped and her eyes widened.

-Gomez…come over her, she whispered without moving her eyes away from what she saw.


	4. Chapter 4 Eternal embrace

The faces of the couple were long gone. Locked in an eternal embrace, their empty sockets stared rather cheerfully at the living couple on the floor. Cobwebs and dust made intricate veils covering the ancient bottle of wine and the burned candles on the table. Morticia gripped her husbands shoulder digging her nails in. Gomez could feel her tension as she struggled to held her tears back. The scenery was just too touching.

\- Oh, Gomez, do you think we'll be like this one day…?

\- Of course, querida. Death itself never managed to tear them apart, why should he part us?

He wrapped his arms around her and they stood like this for a while: Living and dead incarnations of true, eternal love, watching each other with equal admiration.

\- They look so peaceful. So content with each others company. He felt the breath of her whispering as a pleasant tickle against his throat.

\- I wonder how they died, though….Gomez mused while he lit a cigar stroking it against Morticias nails.

\- Maybe they got poisoned.

\- Or the waitress never showed up so they starved to death.

\- We'll never know.

\- That's part of the charm, isn't it? This place got tons of charm. I got a feeling this won't be our last time here….speaking of last times, it's also, as we can see, a perfect place for dying together.

\- Not tonight, cara. There's a few more things I would like to do with you before you die. He bit her neck suggestively. Morticia smiled.

\- Comforting to know. Now darling, I think we can borrow the extra chair.


	5. Chapter 5 Naphtaline river

Back on the dance floor the smoke grew denser than winter fog in Venice. His hands got braver on her body as his immodest caresses were hidden in the haze. They found their way down her decolletage, warm hands cupping the damp skin of her breasts, causing her to moan with pleasure. He dipped her low to pause for a passionate kiss, supporting her back with his right arm while his left hand traveled up her thigh following the split in her dress. His fingers tugged playfully at the thin strap on her panties.

\- Careful now, Morticia whispered.

She meant to sound strict but Gomez knew her too well and recognized the poorly hidden lust in her whisper. Her eyes were two dark pools underneath him, her lips parted in the most irresistible way. He pulled her back up again without removing his hand from her hip.

\- Don't you dare.

Her nails in his shoulders sent pleasant stings of pain through his body adding to his increasing arousal. His pants no longer felt so comfortable.

 _Do it,_ her eyes said. _Do it right now, or I'll kill you._

The brittle strap snapped in his strong hands. A shiver of expectation went through her body. He held her gaze while his hand crossed the bare skin of her voluptuous behind to repeat the process on her other thigh. Then he stood with her torn panties on display in his hand delightfully indiscreet with a triumphant grin on his face. He studied the piquant piece of cloth in his hand with great interest. Standing no more than forty inches from her, she could clearly see the expression on his handsome face as well as the shimmering layer of fluid on her torn undergarment. Excreted from her very own dark core, now visible for all to see, though nobody interrupted. Morticia wondered with lustful nervousness if Gomez was going to do something that most likely would have them thrown out, the way he did sometimes. She hoped so. She felt the cold air making it's way along the inside of her thighs cooling the hidden, swollen parts of her. The involuntary nakedness excited her, so did his teasing with her lingerie. He lifted the black piece of silk to his nose, closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her desire. Morticia stood perfectly still, hip out and hand in side, seemingly cool and uncaring. But her legs quivered on top of her high stilettos. Her dark core contracted and a small stream of exquisite wetness made it's way down the inside of her thigh, when he started to kiss and lick the silk in his hand the same way he would do to her body.

Where there ever lovemaking free from game playing and torture? They where cruel to each other to keep the passion alive. Suffering heightened the pleasure, so they believed. Her body screamed for his touch, for him to take it further. _Don't make me beg, mon cher. Do I need to crawl on the floor and beg for you to please me? No doubt you would have loved that…_

Her feet hurt. She shifted her weight and crossed her arms giving him an inpatient look. Slowly, he levered the intoxicating garment from his face and hide it in the pocket of his brocade vest. Then he pulled out his golden pocket watch chain and studied it, smiling teasingly. It hit her that he acted exactly the way she used to do, driving him to the brink with lust before she gave in. _What time is it, you cruel man? Time to drive your wife insane?_

\- Vous êtes cruel!

The French words escaped her lips without her control.

When she spoke his expression changed in a split second. Morticia shuddered with fearful delight as her husband approached her in one stride. He clasped his hands around her upper arms and drove her firmly, but quite gracefully backwards against the wall. His face was an iron mask, but his eyes glowed so strong with everything he felt for her. She felt an urgent need to look down, his eyes to powerful, her body to weak.

\- Look at me, he demanded, with his mouth so close to her own it made her lips tingle with longing.

\- I'm going to do indecent things to you, my love. His wet mouth brushed against her ear.

\- Mon sauvage, she purred.

He growled like an animal and pushed her against the uneven stone wall, kissing her with all that burned within him. She felt like he was trying to steal the breath of life itself away from her, consuming her whole being with a kiss of fire. He loved her with a passion that bordered to violence. A naphthaline river that seeped through his veins, lethal and merciless. _Oh yes, hurt me_ , she thought as he scraped her back against the wall pushing her up so he could access the parts of her body he desired the most. Her back burned and a wave of lust washed through the lower regions of her body as he forced her legs apart to rest on his shoulders.

The floor was suddenly awfully fare away, but she decided to trust him. He wouldn't let her fall. All the yoga practice had among other fine things given him a sense for adding elements of acrobatics into his everyday life. Still, he had never loved her in this particular way before: In a smokey nightclub full of people and non people, high up on the wall, her legs crossed over his strong shoulders. Gomez often went out of his way to find new and exciting ways to please her, living for pleasing his dark goddess, he buried his head under her dress to worship. _The dress leaves some modesty_ , Morticia thought and that was her last clear thought for a while and also her very last time to worry about modesty for the night. Morticia was always a proper lady until she was not. And when she stopped to act like a decent upper class lady her husband were always to blame. She gave in to passion and the outside world disappeared with it's rules and social norms.

She didn't give a rip about who might watch them. Let them watch, the dead, the living and the undecided, let the sight turn them on, or make them angry, she didn't care as long as her beloved would continue using his tongue in _just-that-spot_. As long as she could keep him captured between her legs , he as much her prisoner as she was his slave forced to receive pleasure in public. That was the secret to their relationships- they were both equally obsessed and dependent on each other. All though they played with shifting the power every day, being switches and found of all kind of games, they both new deep inside that they were equally doomed to be hopelessly lost in each other for all eternity.

 _This is paradise_ , Gomez thought as he worked for her pleasure, hidden in the blessed darkness underneath her dress. She smelled so good. Expensive French perfume mixed with the primitive smell that was her lust for him. Her stilettos dug into his back as her pleasure grew stronger. He would not let her come, not yet, he enjoyed this to much to make a quick end to it.


	6. Chapter 6 The desire of a stranger

Morticia saw him first. _Un voyeur_ , she thought- _enfin!_ And a werewolf he was too. Her sultry cat eyes met his hungry wolf gaze. She winked to him and offered him a superior half smile.

 _Feel free to look, but don't come any nearer,_ was the message in her eyes.

The wolf man groaned and exposed a set of teeth which would have scared most women. But Morticia, balancing against the wall while balancing on the very edge of the most exquisite pleasure, was way beyond fear. The sight of his predator gaze and animal mouth, dripping with saliva only added to her pleasure. To be served by her darling husband while being desired by this strange beast excited her. Not because she wanted the wolf to join in, dear God no! She was an exhibitionist by nature, it was a strangers hungry gaze she craved, nothing more. She tilted her head back and moaned, adding just a little bit of theater to the scene. Gomez was rather occupied with his…business under the cover of her party dress and he failed to notice that something extraordinary was going on. Morticia couldn't help herself. She lifted one delicate hand and let her red talons caress her breast in a very seductive way. She played with her decolletage, revealing more naked skin. How she loved this! Gomez would most likely have killed the beast if he knew. He was a bit too jealous for this type of games. But what he did not knew…he enjoyed himself too much to be distracted and she allowed herself to be a bit playful.

Making eye contact with the stranger, did it make her a bad girl? Well, let her be a bad girl then. This was the fun with getting explicit in public, Gomez knew that as well, and still he could not handle it when other men looked at her.

He played her in that sweet and torturous way she loved. Dragging her close to the edge, her breath hitching in her throat and her whole being aching for that final blissful rush into ecstasy. Then he paused, too pleased with spending time between her matchless thighs, she knew, to let it end. The beast who watched her writhing in pleasure and frustration leaned forward. He clenched his hairy fist and his lips curled in a terrifying grin _. He's going to attack._ The thought jolted trough her head, the clear vision of the wolf making a leap, aiming for her lovers throat and when her poor darling lied dead on the floor he would come for her. For a second Morticia wondered if she had taken this dangerous play too far. Then her husband did something that took the very concept of pleasure to a whole new level, and she cried out loud and lost herself in the moment.


	7. Chapter 7 I just had sex

When Morticia came to herself again she was lying on the floor next to the wall. She hurried to her feet, her eyes scanning the venue for security guards. Luckily, there were none in sight. Wild violins filled the air and the clubbers whirled around the dance floor in a crazy speed. Nobody had eyes for her, and for the moment she was very okay with that. She smoothed her dress with a nonchalant look in her face although her cheeks were slightly flushed and her eyes shone through the haze in a way that screamed _I just had sex and I enjoyed the hell out of it._ She tried to look a little less like a person that just had sex and a little more like an innocent woman searching for her lost dance partner. Gomez was gone. And so were the peeping werewolf. Morticia felt her heart beat faster in a far from pleasant way. Somewhere in the venue an old fashioned clock struck midnight. She could hear her lovers angry voice in her mind, as vivid as if it was real: _You. Me. Outside. Now!_


	8. Chapter 8 Mine forever

Morticia pushed through the crowd, heading for the wardrobe. She had a worried expression on her face and the ghost girl asked her if anything was the matter. Gomez had not stopped for his coat on his way out and she was now pretty sure that he was in trouble. Or dead. He was unarmed for the evening, not at all prepared to fight over his wife with a werewolf.

\- I'm afraid my husband has become a ghost like you. She tried to pass it like a witty remark about her worried look, but she could clearly hear the fear in her own voice.

\- Don't you worry, honey, said the the girl. I would have noticed a new ghost around, especially a handsome new one like your husbond.

\- Did you see where he went then?

\- Oh, just outside for some fresh air I guess. He was in a hurry. Went out with this other gentleman.

\- A werewolf ?

\- Yes, precisely.

Morticia thanked her and hurried outside without putting her cape on. She made her way up the steep stairs and saw a crowd of creatures, people and other beings, gathering around an angry man. She let out a shivering little sigh and couldn't help but smiling. Her dear, old husband throwing a tantrum again. He sounded completely well, save from the fact that he was insanely angry.

Gomez stood on the frozen ground looking exactly like a bull in a bullfighter arena after the matador had run away from the game. His eyes were glowing and the air escaped from his wide nostrils in visible little clouds of steam. His rival took off without a fair fight like the coward he was. Nobody, no matter what type of creature, as long as he was a he- no male in the whole universe should dear to lust after his woman in the way that creep had done. Gomez knew something was wrong in the same moment Morticia sled down from the wall. She reached for him before she collapsed on the floor exhausted from too much pleasure, but he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and turned around, quickly. He hadn't been a fencer for years for nothing. He knew when someone was about to stab him in the back. And there he stood, this awful creature with his hard on glaring at his wife and drooling shamelessly.

If this had happened at his home Gomez would have challenged him to a duel. He had a rich collection of different swords, knifes and pistols, yet here he found himself unarmed and forced to meet this monster of a man in a simple fist fight. He was too angry to think of the consequences and his voice of common sense laid senseless at the floor in that fateful moment. So they went outside, ready to fight until one of them died, at least that was what Gomez thought they had agreed on. But just when he had thrown his vest and pulled up his sleeves, just as he was ready to seize his fate- his rival decided _to turn into a pumpkin!_ Of all ridiculous retreats this was the most cowardly retreat he had ever witnessed!

-The clock strikes twelve- and boom! A pumpkin! How dare you! How dare you insult me like that?

\- Darling, you are screaming at a vegetable.

Her voice sounded as cool and soothing as ever but he was still angry.

\- A moment ago this was a werewolf with the nerve to… _to hit on you_!

He spat out the last words in disgust.

\- And now it's a pumpkin, she said calmly simply stating a fact.

\- Well someone's got a twisted idea of fairy tales, I must say. Gomez blinked and looked at the pumpkin again as if he still couldn't believe his own eyes.

The pumpkin said nothing. It didn't even had a carved mouth to reply with, and no real interest in other men's wife's what so ever.

\- I'm freezing, mon cher. Morticia tugged at his shirt.

\- Why don't you call for a taxi instead?

Gomez finally turned to look at her.

\- Speak some more french, then.

He sounded a bit like a sulky child and Morticia couldn't held back a smile.

\- It was for your honor, cara mia.

\- I know.

She kissed his cheek with cold lips and put her arm around his waist slowly moving him away from the battlefield saving the poor pumpkin from being smashed to bits. While they walked towards the taxi stand she gave him a rhapsody of random french words through chattering teeth. He placed her cape over her shaking shoulders and then his coat, hugged her hard and kissed her hair.

\- You are mine, only mine, mine forever, he said.


	9. Chapter 9 Keep your eyes on the road

Gomez leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. He enjoyed the feeling of the car heat seeping through his body. Morticia laid in his lap fallen asleep in her catlike way. He stroke her raven hair with a lazy hand. The gentle stream of warm air and the low humming of the engine relaxed him. He didn't feel angry anymore. Gomez was after all not the type of person to held grudges. Especially not against vegetables. He was about to drift off to sleep when the beauty in his lap made a subtle movement, like she was trying to make herself more comfortable. He felt a small jolt of pleasure as her face brushed against his private parts. Then she moved again, and as he grew harder he knew she was doing it on purpose. After all, Morticia did very seldom make a movement that wasn't calculated. He tightened his grip around her silky curls as he felt her skilled, cool fingers making their way inside his pants and underwear to caress him. He bit his tongue to suppress a moan on it's way out when she made a slow circle with her sharp nail around the tip of his erection, teasing the sensitive skin there. Pain and pleasure traveled together trough his neural pathways as she added more pressure and he started a feverishly search for cash in his pockets. He managed to produce a considerable stack of bills which he handed to the driver.

-Listen, my friend, keep your eyes on the road and take us on a nice long sightseeing, will you?

He struggled to maintain a normal voice. She found it funny. He could tell because he felt the vicious curl of her lips against the skin on his bare abdomen.

\- Yes, Sir.

The driver lifted his eyebrows when he saw the generous amount of money but he maintained his calm just the same and did as he was told.

When Gomez stumbled out of the car later that night he had no idea about where they had been driving or what time it was. He cast a stolen glance down his body, relieved to find his zipper firmly closed and his shirt buttoned and placed neatly inside his pants. He smiled sheepishly at the driver who nodded and murmured a low «g'nite, Sir, Madame» before he drove away, probably to take a nice, long vacation from his driving business with the nights salary in his pocket. After the sound of the car faded away the most pleasant nocturnal silence fell upon them. The mansion itself seemed to be asleep. All the jack o lanterns and different Halloween decorations had gone dark. So were the many windows and even the old gaslight over their doorstep shaped as a guardian demon, were not lit this night.

Clouds had covered the moon for a while but now it reappeared in the skies. He grabbed his darlings gaunt shoulder and squeezed it gently.

\- Tired, cara mia?

She turned to face him and smiled slightly while a stream of shiny, white liquid made it's way from the corner of her mouth, dripping down on the bare skin on her chest and staining her black dress with drops twinkling in the moonlight. This highly erotic sight made his body ready for more. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing himself against her thigh.

\- I need to fuck you, he rasped.

\- Then do it, she breathed.

They hurried inside and slammed the heavy oak door behind them, forgetting all about their sleeping family members, once again consumed by their grand passion for each other. He took her on the floor in the darkness in the hall, no patience to make it to their bedroom. He was overwhelmed by this urgent need to be inside her, to feel her warmth closing around him as if it was for the last time. You never knew when you had made love for the last time, he once told her-«and that is why I will always make love to you as if it's for the last time.» So he never saved his passion for another day, nor did he bother to be calm once again in the safe surroundings of their home.

If the moans and screams emerging from the hall interrupted the dreams of the children, they did so in a well known and harmless way. For little Wednesday and her brother Pugsley it simply meant that their parents had made it back home to them, in one piece and very much alive. The children didn't pay much attention to it, but they found it comforting- it was just that kind of sounds you could wake up to and know in the same second that you were home and everything was completely fine and normal. As for Pubert he slept so deeply at night that it was far easier to wake the dead in the cemetery than to disturb his sleep.

In the dark morning, just before Lurch woke up to start on his duties, the happy couple finally went to bed. They had promised their children a trip to the swamp and needed a few hours rest. The last thing Morticia noticed before she tumbled into oblivion was the howling wind outside gathering the clouds back in the skies. No sun today. Life was perfect. She kissed her lovers neck and went to sleep.


End file.
